


One Hundred

by kiyala



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 09:37:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9715688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: Otabek is in St Petersburg to visit. Yuri is determined to kiss him one hundred times in one day.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy valentines day! ♥

Otabek's flight lands at Pulkovo International Airport just after seven o'clock in the morning. This early in the morning, the airport is still in the process of waking up, shops still opening as he walks through the arrivals lounge, minimal staff stationed at key points to direct passengers towards immigration. Most of them look just as tired as each other, staff stifling yawns behind their hands, watching the slow trickle of passengers trudge down the long halls and follow the signs towards the exit.

Despite all of this, Otabek feels incredibly awake. He slept on the five and a half hour flight so that he wouldn't be tired now but more importantly, he knows that the moment he gets through immigration and customs, Yuri will be there, waiting to pick him up despite the early hour and Otabek's protests. That fact alone is enough to have him too restless to feel tired.

With the airport as quiet as it is, Yuri is easy to spot the moment Otabek walks out of the gate. He's standing back and waiting near a pillar and Otabek watches as Yuri spots him; he goes entirely still for a moment before he straightens to his full height, waving an arm over his head. Otabek smiles, the way he always does the moment he's with Yuri, but this time it's accompanied by the thumping of his heart as he walks over. Shrugging his backpack off one shoulder, he reaches into it and pulls out a small plush cat, pushing it into Yuri's hands the moment they're close enough.

"Happy three month anniversary," he tells Yuri. "For last week."

He watches fondly as Yuri's face flushes bright red. When Yuri looks up from the plush, he's biting his lip in an unsuccessful attempt to hold back his smile and he looks so beautiful that Otabek wants to kiss him. 

In the years since they made friends, Yuri has been steadily growing taller than Otabek and now, he needs to lean down to bring their lips together. His hand is warm as it cups Otabek's cheek and just as he's about to pull back, he leans in again for another brief kiss, and then another.

"Three," Yuri mutters under his breath as they part, as if to himself. He looks at Otabek, his cheeks still a little pink, his eyes bright. "I'm glad you could come to visit. Are you ready to go?"

Otabek takes the handle of his suitcase before Yuri can, pulling it along. Yuri holds his cat plush to his chest with one hand, taking Otabek's free hand with the other, twining their fingers together as they walk.

In the three months that they've been dating, and at least the year preceding, Otabek has watched the way Yuri has become increasingly affectionate whenever they're together. It doesn't happen even half as often as either of them would like; Yuri doesn't compete in the Four Continents and Otabek doesn't compete at the Europeans so they miss the chance to see each other then. Otabek certainly isn't complaining about the fact that Yuri isn't remotely inclined to let go of him when they do have the chance to see each other. 

Yuri only lets go of Otabek's hand for long enough to let him stow his suitcase for the taxi ride from the airport to the city, then grabs for it again like even being apart for that one minute was too long. They both sit in the backseat and Yuri kisses him—five consecutive kisses that he counts under his breath as well, bringing them to eight. Otabek doesn't ask when Yuri doesn't explain, just kisses him two more times and watches his lips silently form, _ten_.

The taxi driver studiously ignores them, eyes on the road, but Otabek decides to spare him from any further discomfort and settles for pulling Yuri to lean against him. Yuri's hand rests on Otabek's knee, his long fingers tapping out a rhythm that follows the beat of his short program music. Otabek takes hold of them, pressing a kiss to each knuckle, and notices that Yuri doesn't count those.

Otabek doesn't mention it until they're at Yuri's apartment and their kiss count has already reached twenty. Holding the sides of Yuri's face, Otabek draws him into another kiss, slower and deeper this time, revelling in the familiar taste of Yuri's mouth before he pulls back. "Is that twenty one?"

Yuri's eyes go wide, like he didn't realise he was being so obvious about counting. Otabek feels his heart squeeze, the way it does each time he discovers that he can actually love Yuri more than he previously thought possible. 

"Yeah," Yuri finally answers, licking his lips and meeting Otabek's gaze. "That's twenty one."

"Is there a goal, or are you just counting for curiosity?"

Yuri's face goes red and he turns away without answering. Otabek takes his hand, squeezing gently, and waits.

"One hundred," Yuri tells him at length, speaking into his own shoulder. "Because—just because."

"We're nearly a quarter of the way," Otabek murmurs, "and it's barely nine o'clock. You're doing well."

"I didn't want to aim for more than ten by now," Yuri mumbles, "in case you were tired. But then I couldn't stop."

"I'm not complaining," Otabek replies. "You can afford to slow down for a while."

Yuri's eyebrows draw together. "Do you want me to?"

Otabek kisses him again, wrapping his arms around Yuri, and doesn't let go until they're both breathless. When he speaks, his voice is a little husky. "I prefer to kiss you like this, but it only takes us to twenty two."

Yuri kisses him just as deeply. "Twenty three."

"It's a little inefficient," Otabek hums. "If that bothers you."

Yuri makes a disbelieving noise at the back of his throat. "Do you really think I'm going to complain about you kissing me like that?"

"Slow and steady," Otabek murmurs, knowing full well that neither of those words apply to Yuri at all. He rests his hand on Yuri's cheek, pulling him in again. "We'll get there."

Kisses twenty four and twenty five are just as lingering, with just a short break in between for them to draw breath. Yuri rests his forehead against Otabek's, exhaling slowly. The couch is long enough that Otabek can lean back against one of the armrests, pulling Yuri on top of him. Yuri isn't expecting the movement but goes with it anyway, bracing himself against Otabek's chest, hair falling across his face. Otabek brushes it back out of the way, tucking it behind Yuri's ear, and kisses him again.

The way Yuri looks at him when they pull apart is breathtaking. There's a light flush to his cheeks, his eyes are shining, his long hair framing his face as if it's a work of art and Otabek can't look away. It makes him want to do something foolish, like put words to the fact that his feelings run far deeper than they should after only three months of dating, or confess that he's wanted what they have now for at least a full year before it happened.

He's saved from saying either of these things, however, by the sound of a dull thud immediately followed by a mewl. They both look up, finding that Yuri's cat has taken interest in the plush that Otabek gifted him. Sofiya has knocked it off the table where Yuri placed it, and is now sitting on the floor beside it as if she's pondering what to do with it now.

Yuri huffs out a laugh and Otabek's attention shifts from Sofiya to her owner. It's almost embarrassing, the way Otabek's heartbeat trips over itself every time he watches Yuri laugh. The effect is even more powerful with Yuri sprawled on top of him, lips pink and swollen by Otabek's doing. 

Propping himself up with an elbow, Otabek rests his free hand on the nape of Yuri's neck, thumb stroking back and forth over the soft skin. Kiss twenty seven is slow and indulgent, but Otabek follows it up with a light, brief kiss just so he can enjoy the press of their bruised lips against each other. He's only aiming to get them to thirty, but he can't bring himself to stop with the way Yuri is watching him between every kiss, lips slightly parted, blinking slowly with amazement, as if he has any reason to be _amazed_ by the fact that Otabek wants to kiss him again and again. 

"Thirty three," Yuri breathes, when Otabek finally pulls back and finds the self control to stop himself from leaning in again. "We're a third of the way there. I thought you said something about slowing down."

Otabek bites back an embarrassed noise, feeling his face and neck growing warm. Yuri laughs, holding Otabek's face in both his hands, but they don't kiss. Instead, Yuri just looks at him, as if studying his face, and sighs loudly.

"I really, really like you, Beka."

He leaves the admission hanging in the air, and coming from anyone else, Otabek would expect it to be followed by a _but_. Otabek knows better, though. This is Yuri, who is straightforward in a way that differs to Otabek, but it means that they can understand each other. Yuri, who is honest through his actions, is still learning how to do the same with his words without immediately wanting to snatch them back out of the air. 

So Otabek simply smiles back. "I'm glad. Will you still like me if I drag you out into the cold? We need breakfast."

"I have food," Yuri protests.

"I need coffee," Otabek replies, eyeing the coffee machine in Yuri's kitchen, which he's argued with once and avoided ever since.

With a quiet snort, Yuri climbs off his lap. "Fine. I won't even complain, just because it's you."

Otabek is very conscious of the fact that he gets away with a lot more than Yuri is willing to allow anyone else, and that has only increased with time. He isn't about to complain. Especially not when he knows that the reverse is just as true.

Touching his fingers to his lips, Otabek wonders if either of them are actually presentable enough to go out. Yuri's hair looks a little disheveled, his face is still flushed, and Otabek doubts that he looks much better himself.

Yuri must notice too, because he pulls a hair tie out of his pocket and pulls his hair up into a loose bun, then straightens his jacket in an attempt to look like he hasn't just spent the past few minutes making out on the couch.

Otabek runs a hand over his hair as he sits up, trying to get it to lie flat. Yuri steps closer, combing his fingers through it to help, then kisses him again. 

"Yura, if we don't stop…" Otabek doesn't finish, but he lets his grip on Yuri's sides speak for him instead. 

"Yeah." Yuri steps back, putting his hands in his pockets. "I'm this close to not letting you out of my apartment. At all."

Licking his lips, Otabek nods in agreement. He doesn't get time alone with Yuri often and even when he does, it's not always out of the public eye. It's incredibly tempting to take advantage of their privacy right now, but he reminds himself that there's no rush. He's here for two weeks and for half of that time, they don't even have practice filling their schedules. Otabek knows how to be patient. He can do this.

Otabek has visited Yuri's St Petersburg apartment enough times over the past few years to have a favourite café just five minutes away. The coffee is decent enough, but it's not the menu or even the ambiance that makes him so fond of it. He likes it for the way Yuri is so obviously comfortable here. Back when they first made friends and Yuri was fifteen, he had the tendency to sprawl himself across wherever he was sitting. Since then, his limbs have only grown longer and his sprawl is more pronounced and more elegant, all at once. Yuri is a beautiful contradiction between his brash nature and his dancer's grace and Otabek remembers this café as the place where it first properly sunk in that he loves the way Yuri embodies both at once, long before he was ready to admit to it.

"You're staring at me," Yuri speaks up, looking a little embarrassed even though he sounds pleased. He runs his tongue across his upper lip and looks away, to the counter where they gave their orders. "You do that a lot."

"You're nice to look at," Otabek replies honestly, watching as Yuri turns bright red. It's fascinating, watching the blush creep its way along Yuri's neck and to his ears. If there wasn't a table separating them, Otabek thinks he would reach over and trace the path with his fingers.

His fingers twitch, like they want to touch anyway. He's glad that he doesn't give in because one of the waiters walks over with their drinks. Otabek eyes the strawberry milkshake that Yuri ordered, watching as he plucks the strawberry wedged on the rim of the glass and nibbles on the end of it.

"What?" Yuri asks, raising an eyebrow.

Otabek shakes his head. Telling Yuri that he's cute will only make him more flustered. Otabek can take his time with that; he's with Yuri for two entire weeks. That's plenty of time to get Yuri as flustered as he wants, spreading it out to catch him by surprise each time.

His coffee is satisfying enough and he knows it's too early for it to actually kick in, but the first sip already has him relaxing in his seat just from the taste and routine of it. Yuri smiles at him, resting their shoes against each other under the table. Otabek presses his foot into the contact a little more and watches as Yuri's smile grows wider.

Their breakfast is simple because they're both keeping an eye on their intake for the coming competitive season. Otabek doesn't realise how hungry he is until he starts eating, and the same must be true for Yuri because neither of them say a word until they're finished. Yuri leans back in his seat with a satisfied sigh, running his foot up along the back of Otabek's calf. 

"Yura," he says quietly. 

It only gets him a raised eyebrow in reply, like Yuri is daring him to do something about it. Yuri's foot wanders higher and Otabek reaches under the table, grabbing hold of his foot. 

"You're showing off," Otabek mutters when Yuri holds the angle without a problem. He strokes his thumb over Yuri's ankle before he lets go. "The longer we sit here, the longer we have to wait until we can get back to your apartment." 

"You're eager." Yuri blinks at him, as if he's only just realising it. Otabek thought the kisses earlier would have given him away. 

"I'm looking forward to kissing you more," Otabek tells him, lowering his voice so they won't be overheard. 

Yuri curses under his breath, sitting up straighter. "You can't just _say_ that sort of thing, Beka."

Otabek smiles, watching Yuri swallow hard. "Shall we?"

Yuri nearly trips over himself in his rush to get up. Otabek steadies him with a hand on his back, biting back his smile when he feels Yuri tensing beneath his hand. 

Even the five minute walk back to the apartment seems too long for Yuri's liking. He takes Otabek's hand, tugging insistently as they walk. The moment they're inside the apartment, Yuri is kissing him again, licking into Otabek's mouth and pinning him against the door.

"Yura." Otabek is breathless when Yuri finally pulls back. "At this rate, we'll reach one hundred by the afternoon. There's no rush."

"I don't care," Yuri mutters, his hands slipping underneath Otabek's shirt. "I don't want to stop kissing you. I want to _touch_ you. It's been more than a month since I last got to see you."

Otabek kisses Yuri hard, feeling as if their time apart is finally catching up to him now. Otabek shrugs his jacket off as he feels Yuri's hand slide over his stomach, then lifts his shirt up by the hem to make it easier. Yuri's breath hitches as he traces his fingers over Otabek's abs and he leans in for another kiss. Otabek bites Yuri's lower lip, tugging on it with his teeth.

"Beka," Yuri whispers, palming the front of Otabek's jeans. "Please. You want it too."

Pressing into Yuri's touch, Otabek barely manages to bite back his moan at the glorious friction. Yuri might be the impatient one between them, but Otabek is steadily being worn down. He makes the next move, unbuckling Yuri's belt and undoing his pants. He strokes Yuri through his boxers, enjoying the breathy noise it earns him. 

"Come here," Yuri mutters, kissing Otabek to muffle his next moan. He undoes Otabek's pants in return, tugging them down to his thighs and then does the same to his own, stepping closer so he can wrap his fingers around both their cocks and stroke.

The back of Otabek's head hits the door and he realises that they still haven't moved any further into the apartment. He isn't about to stop them now, so he lets himself lean against the door, one of his hands on Yuri's hip to pull him closer, the other helping to rub their cocks against each other. Yuri is panting against Otabek's mouth, pressing so many kisses to his lips that it's difficult to keep count.

"Forty one," Otabek pants against Yuri's neck, for both their benefit.

Yuri makes a small noise of disbelief, trailing off into a gasp on Otabek's next stroke. "How are you still keeping track?"

"We have a goal." Otabek can hear his voice trembling. "I won't get distracted from it."

"That only makes me _want_ to distract you," Yuri laughs, his breath hitching. He looks like his knees are about to buckle and he leans against Otabek, panting against his ear. "Come _on_ , Beka."

Nuzzling against Yuri's neck, Otabek bites down gently. He smiles with satisfaction as he feels Yuri jerk against him, coming with a breathless moan. 

"You too," Yuri mutters, stroking him faster. Otabek doesn't resist, his moan swallowed up by the kiss Yuri claims from him.

"Forty two," Otabek sighs into the curve of Yuri's neck, just for the way it makes him laugh. "We're going to have to clean up."

"Shower," Yuri decides, pouting when Otabek insists on taking turns instead of going together.

Yuri's pout is dangerous, Otabek thinks to himself. Yuri, as a person, is incredibly dangerous. Especially when he knows the effect he has on Otabek.

At least, once they've showered and changed, it feels a little easier to keep their hands off each other. Yuri has an entire list of places that he's been wanting to take Otabek to when they have the chance, and the entire day feels like one long date made up of smaller dates put together; the park that Yuri has been telling Otabek about with the one dog walker who is always there with at least eight dogs at a time, the restaurant where the chefs and waiters are all incredibly fond of Yuri and give them the best service for lunch, the arcade that Yuri never walked into until he learned that Otabek is good at the games. Yuri drags him all over the city, their hands joined whenever possible, stealing kisses here and there as they steadily make their way to one hundred.

They're up to fifty two by the time they finish lunch and when they finally leave the arcade, they're already on seventy. They've all been brief kisses, but Otabek is determined to change that as soon as they return to Yuri's apartment.

Sofiya, who is napping curled up beside the cat plush from earlier, looks up curiously when Yuri puts down the tiger plush Otabek won for him from one of the claw machines.

"You can't have this one," Yuri tells her seriously, but Otabek already knows that he'll relent later. Yuri looks over his shoulder, as if he can sense Otabek's disbelief. "I'm serious."

"I'm sure you are," Otabek murmurs, sitting on the couch and raising an eyebrow at Yuri in invitation.

In an instant, Yuri is crossing the room and climbing into Otabek's lap.

"Do you know how many kisses we're on?"

Otabek smiles. "Do you?"

Yuri snorts quietly, giving him a kiss that feels more like a bite. "Seventy one. Did you think I'd lose count?"

"You did before," Otabek points out.

"I'm going to kiss you so much that you forget to count them." Yuri says it as if it's meant to be a _threat_. Otabek smiles fondly.

"Will you?"

Yuri licks his lips in reply, holding Otabek's face in his hands and kissing him. Four kisses a breath, then four more. It's a pattern.

"Stop _smiling_ ," Yuri mutters.

"Seventy nine," Otabek supplies.

Making a soft noise of irritation, Yuri kisses him again. He tries distracting Otabek with kisses along his jaw and down his neck; kisses that he isn't counting as part of the hundred he's aiming for. Otabek has always taken at least a little pleasure in frustrating Yuri, but it's never been quite _this_ satisfying before, leaving Yuri red-faced and determined to kiss Otabek even more.

"Yuri," Otabek murmurs when they're at ninety four and Yuri shows no sign of giving up. "We're close to one hundred already."

"And you're still keeping track," Yuri sighs. "I wanted the whole thing to take you by surprise. One hundred kisses on our—anyway. You know me too well for me to actually surprise you, I guess."

"Wait," Otabek says. "On our… what?"

Yuri makes a soft embarrassed noise, pressing his lips together into a thin line. "Nothing. What. I don't know what you're talking about."

"One hundred kisses," Otabek says to himself. It's been three months since they started dating. Three months, a week, and—

"Shut up," Yuri mumbles, preempting him.

"One hundred days," Otabek realises with a whisper. "Yura…"

"I said _shut up_." Yuri covers Otabek's mouth with a hand. "Don't laugh."

Otabek doesn't. Instead, he kisses Yuri's fingers, gently taking his wrist and pulling it away. Wrapping an arm around Yuri's waist, he takes a deep breath. "Look at me."

Yuri does, a little reluctantly, still looking incredibly embarrassed. "I only realised your first day here would be day one hundred by accident, you know. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it, but I wanted to do _something_."

Otabek opens his mouth to reply, but everything he wants to say to Yuri can be better articulated in a kiss, so that's what he does instead. He pulls Yuri into a deep kiss, hoping that it will say all the things he's still learning to put into words. He kisses Yuri again and again, until he can't tell when one kiss ends and the next begins. He doesn't mind, not even when Yuri laughs against his lips and pulls back just far enough to speak.

"There. One hundred. You lost count, didn't you?"

"I forgot to count at all," Otabek admits. "I wasn't thinking about anything except for how much I wanted to kiss you. I don't want to stop at one hundred."

"Idiot," Yuri mutters, even though he's smiling. He strokes his hand along Otabek's cheek, then rests their foreheads together. "Who said anything about stopping, huh? We're just getting started."

"Yeah," Otabek agrees, taking Yuri's hand into his and linking their fingers together. He brings their joined hands up to his mouth, brushing a kiss over Yuri's knuckles, and finds that he can't stop smiling. "You're right. We are." 

Kiss one hundred and one, Otabek thinks to himself as they lean into each other once again. It's not quite a beginning, but Otabek never wants it to end.


End file.
